


Brendon and Ryan are neighbors

by kaciemcr



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, Neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 13:56:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3898855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaciemcr/pseuds/kaciemcr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon and Ryan are neighbors... Ryan has a lot of breakdowns and Brendon helps him one time. Based off some tumblr au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brendon and Ryan are neighbors

It was yet another day. Brendon had just finished the late night shift at the local smoothie hut and was back into his apartment. It was stuffy as usual, so he opened the small window by the couch. Immediately the hustle and bustle of Vegas launched at him. Hiding above the fire escape, a nest of birds chirped. Soft guitar floated from his right. It wasn’t unusual; his neighbor, Ryan, had a passion for acoustic guitar and strange, sweet music. On special days, a light voice carried along with an unrecognizable melody, most likely composed by the young boy.

Having thin walls in their apartment building was an upside when it came to daytime and hearing the boy next door whistling a tune while flipping through television channels, but most nights were hardly as nice. He never kicked the walls or threw his TV out the window, even if it would fit easily; he was just always sad. Most of the time, he would mutter things to himself, that Brendon could only hear if he got just a few feet from the wall. Sometimes, Ryan would be talking with someone over the phone. Brendon gathered from many conversations the person on the phone was a guy named Spencer. 

Brendon microwaved a ‘one serving sized’ bowl of macaroni & cheese and settled onto the stool at the bar in the kitchen with his elbows on the countertop. He could see the faded bricks of the apartment building across the street. He could almost hear is piano calling to him from the living room. After scraping the last few noodles into his mouth he tossed the bowl into the sink and sat at the bench. None of the famous songs he knew stood out to him and neither did the ones he’d written not too long ago. 

It was time for something new. He opened the book to a fresh page and played the melody stuck in his head. He always thought lyrics were the easy part, but I guess his mind just knew what to do. He’d written many songs even before he’d moved out on his own and decided to go to college. Out the window the sun had went down. His mind wandered towards whether Ryan would be okay tonight. Last night had been lucky.

Sometimes Brendon wondered more about the boy. There had been one time when he’d brought a girl over, but she was never back again. He was always home at the same times and sometimes went grocery shopping, or out to buy what Brendon assumed were things like cereal and ramen noodles, fresh milk and eggs.

That night Brendon played the piano until his fingers were aching and his voice was too tired to pronounce words correctly. The stars were shining bright as he pulled the window shut to stop the cold breeze for the morning. He didn’t hear a word from his neighbor the rest of the night.

+++

The next night, Ryan was worse than usual. Brendon could actually hear what he was saying and the screeching of furniture across wooden flooring. The other boy had tried multiple times to call, who Brendon assumed was, Spencer. Each time there was no pickup. Eventually Ryan settled somewhere in the apartment and played his acoustic guitar. It was an unfamiliar song to the eavesdropper. The lyrics were more downcast than the other songs he would listen to from the window.

In a swift movement, Brendon was off the couch and walking towards the door leading out into the hallway. He hovered with his hand raised, blinking at the dark door with a number similar to his own. Before he knew it, a knock rang between his ears, and he barely had time to place it coming from his own hand, because the door swung open. Inside was a frazzled looking man with deep brown eyes and messy matching hair. 

Ryan’s eyes widened when he realized it was not Spencer, like he was expecting. As much as he wanted to slam the door shut on his nosy, yet very cute, neighbor, he wasn’t that mean of a person. This guy was seeing him as a mess, in his most vulnerable state in months. 

“Hello, I’m your neighbor as you probably know…” he thought for a moment, “Are you alright?” Ryan looked at him, critically.

“Not really.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? I know sometimes you talk to a, uh, Spencer, sometimes, but he’s not answering tonight.” Brendon worried that he’d said too much. ‘The creepy neighbor eavesdrops on my breakdowns and knows my friends name,’ is not what he wants Ryan to think, but if he takes a step back to look at the situation, it’s pretty close.

Ryan didn’t, though. “Oh, yeah, he’s mad at me. Usually I call him in situations like this, so I can’t believe he’s being this stubborn; I know he knows what’s going on,” he sighed, rubbing his hand over one of his eyes, smudging the already smudged eyeliner. “There’s not much you can do. Sorry to keep you up; I’ll be quieter.” The taller boy went to close the door.

“Wait! I can try to take your mind off of whatever it is bothering you. Do you like video games? You play guitar, right? I’ve heard you.” Great, Brendon thought, just keep making yourself seem like a bigger creep.

Ryan smiled, and Brendon thought it was the most beautiful thing he had seen all day. “And you play piano and guitar. Whatever you were playing last night was really good. You wrote it, didn’t you?” Brendon nodded, grinning. Ryan glanced into his apartment before stepping aside to let Brendon in. Brendon had to admit it was not exactly clean. He figured he was right about the screeching, as the couch was halfway down the hall. The other boy just shrugged when Brendon looked at it. He was unsure of what to be doing as Ryan was checking his phone, most likely for a missed call from Spencer. 

“My guitar is in my room. Play me a song?” he almost fluttered his eyelashes, pulling his pajama covered legs underneath him on the chair. Brendon laughed, and walked past the couch towards the room. The apartment was set up the same as his own. In the small room was a large bed with wrinkled sheets, a closet with colorful patterned clothing, and an expensive looking acoustic guitar.

“This sure is a nice one. I’ve had mine for a few years, now.” He said after rejoining in the living room. Ryan nodded, a wistful look in his eyes.

“It was a gift. A few of my friends, including Spencer, bought it for me. They knew I loved music and it grounded me, I guess.” 

Brendon pulled the strap over his head and positioned the instrument across his upper body. Slowly, he strummed each string before starting an old song he wrote junior year of high school. It was fairly simple to play, but it gave him nostalgia in the back of his throat. Ryan was still staring in awe as Brendon quietly started singing along with the chorus. 

He played another song after that. It was a bitter song he wrote after his ex-girlfriend left him, but no one, especially the boy in front of him now, had to know that. It seemed to calm Ryan down. He even sang along to the chorus of another one of the songs. When the older boy let out a yawn and checked his phone for the time, he apologized profusely for keeping him so late.

The next day, the guy who goes by Spencer showed up at his doorway. As soon as the door opened and Spencer had looked him over, Brendon was enveloped in a hug.

“Thank you so much for helping Ryan. I was just being a dick and it was really worrying when he stopped calling. You don’t know how much he’s gone through and he can be so tough on himself. He called me this morning and told me everything… I hope that’s not weird.” Spencer was really happy his best friend had found another person. For one, as much as he loved Ryan, he also liked going to bed before the a.m. hours. Brendon was happy to finally know a little more about his neighbor and to hopefully be better friends in the future.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like a month ago but I don't think I'm gonna add anything more to it so here it is. It's 2015 and looK I'm still Ryden trash. Idk hope it wasn't too bad, I didn't proofread.


End file.
